


Northern Lights

by windandthestars



Category: Arctic Air
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e10 Drop In For Lunch, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 16:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then there was Astrid, who was here, who was close and getting closer, her palm held flat, the swirling blues and greens contained there a perfect match to the aurora.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Northern Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/gifts).



> Spoilers for the season finale (1x10 Drop In For Lunch). 
> 
> For Phyllis because this is her fault.

She doesn't catch sight of it at first, the small bottle cradled against the palm of Astrid's hand, held not clenched in a fist, but hidden until she felt safe enough to unwind her fingers and present it to Krista.

It almost makes Krista laugh, how unlike now the first time had been almost a year ago. She'd had a party to attend, a semi formal thing in Deanna's backyard, a glorified picnic as far as she was concerned. Astrid had moved in the week before and while Krista had liked having her around, she still wasn't sure what to make of the blonde. That particular morning Astrid had made them both breakfast, carrying the lot into the living room and garnishing each table setting with a bowl of popcorn. Krista had politely refrained from laughing and sat down to her breakfast wondering if perhaps Sweden was a bit more unusual than she had thought.

The question hadn't lasted long, however, because the whole thing turned out to be a bribe. It had surprised her at the time once she'd realized, but now she likes to think she'd see it coming.

"I heard about the party." Astrid chops the last word into two rapid syllables. "I thought you would like to relax before you go."

"OK," Krista had said not fully understanding as Astrid had fiddled with the TV and then, looking triumphant, stood back so Krista could see the first frame of Monty Python push through the static filled screen.

"I'm going to do your hair." Astrid had said partway through the movie as Krista had laughed along with the film, munching on her popcorn, ignorant of the way Astrid had been fluttering around the room.

"OK," Krista repeated, unwilling now to turn off the movie and suggest they take up this womanly bonding another time. At worst all this would end with Krista having to do her own hair while dashing out the door. A semi regular occurrence as it was.

The nail polish had come later, after her hair had been done and Astrid had returned with the dress Krista had left hanging from the top of her closet door. She hadn't intended to wear the thing, jeans and a nice shirt would more than suffice, or a denim skirt given the weather, but something had been nagging at her to try harder. She'd been single since what felt like forever and while no one was saying anything, yet, a part of her figured she should at least look like she was trying, if only occasionally. She's not about to argue with the look on Astrid's face though and so she resigned herself to wear the dress and whatever shoes she had no doubt Astrid would eventually produce.

It's not until she caught a whiff of the sharp acrid smell that Krista realized what Astrid intended to do next. 

"No." It had seemed a perfectly clear and finite response, but Astrid only frowned slightly and waited. The movie played on, Krista missed a funny line and wincing at the missed opportunity sighed with a groan, acquiescing.

The green, a pale mint, went on relatively pain free, splashed across her toes. She could deal with a day of uncomfortably pointy shoes to hide the color that reminded her of the kitchen in the Martin family home. Her fingernails took a bit more coaxing and the promise of a bottle of nail polish remover when she returned home.

Even so. she had arrived at the party fighting the urge to stop by a convenience store and grab a bottle, or at the very least pick at the corners of her nails, chipping them. They hadn't been the only thing bothering her though. Standing with her hair cascading down from where it was held at the back of her head, she had felt like a fifties house wife in her dress of swirling green and aqua floral. She was over dressed, uncomfortable even among those she knew, their looks more unsettling than the passing glances from the people she had yet to meet.

It had all ended well despite that though, spectacularly well in fact. Tangled in the sheets in Deanna's guest bedroom, that day had marked the first of many stolen afternoons for her and Blake.

It's odd now to be thinking of such a happy afternoon with tears sticky on her face, her hand still stinging from where she had smacked the vending machine earlier. Still, the memory wells up all the same at the sight of the bottle in Astrid's hand and Krista sighs, letting the smallest bit of tension leave her shoulders as Astrid shifts closer.

It'll be a while longer before Astrid's fingers uncurl to display the color she had so carefully decided on, but for now the memory of Blake's retreating back, the angry, terrified words she had used to push Bobby away, dulled slightly, the edges of that memory fading with the first.

Krista lets out another breath and glances up at the speaker in the ceiling of the waiting room, waiting for it to spew out another rushed sentence, waiting for it to send her pulse racing as she worried. 

Blake was gone, maybe for good, maybe forever and she mourned him, aching. Aching still more for Bobby who, while nearby, might as well have been hundreds of miles away, again. More painful, however, was the thought of her dad's bruised body, limp on the hospital bed somewhere down the hall, the thought of the phone call she had just placed to Rita who had landed in Yellowknife and was on her way. On her way to sit alone and wait, praying, because Krista was here, right here, unwilling and unable to deal with people caring, worrying, grieving, fussing over her.

And then there was Astrid, who was here, who was close and getting closer, her palm held flat, the swirling blues and greens contained there a perfect match to the aurora. 

Astrid couldn't have know, can't know, what it meant to her, the northern lights, the nights spent watching them with her dad, the solitude and the camaraderie, the feeling of home, of belonging, of being loved.

Krista's eyes well and she reaches forward with shaking fingers. "Could you?"


End file.
